"Choose the second option, Colonel," Solo stated firmly. "Recruiting qualified medical personnel is crucial for us. Additionally, I need a complete medical camp."
"Uh—" The Colonel scratched his forehead, his tone somewhat hesitant. "General, you're essentially asking me to cut off a piece of my own flesh."
"We're unable to evacuate wounded personnel from Jabim in time. A medical camp is an absolute necessity," Solo said with conviction. "Otherwise, our warriors won't survive."
"I believe we can mobilize two medical brigades," the Colonel nodded. "General, how much medical supplies do you require?"
"Three times—" Solo shook his head. "No, four times the standard allocation."
"Commander, isn't that excessive?"
"At Jabim, even that might not be enough."
At that moment, Solo's data pad beeped with a notification.
He opened the received document and began listing the requirements item by item: "First, to replenish our forces—we need 2,832 frontline infantry. Second, two Maintenance Corps and one engineer battalion. I'll keep some of the infantry version of the LAAT low-speed assault transports, but we need fifteen cargo models as replacements. Now, let's talk about equipment: How many Corps tanks do you have?"
"Just a moment... forty vehicles, General."
"Assign all of them to me."
"You're stripping us bare, General! You're no better than a alleyway thief," Leoning said with a laugh.
"It doesn't matter. I'll leave all the SPHA heavy artillery with you." Solo abruptly changed the subject. "By the way, do you have any Overlord tanks?"
"What model do you require, Commander?"
"Is there a choice?"
"Yes, we have about ninety A5 modified models. As for the A6 type, they're currently en route with the latest technology-equipped escort fleet. Let's see how many there are... Ah, here it is—sixty in total."
"I'll take both models," Solo thought. If it's the type I'm thinking of, the muddy terrain of Jabim will be perfect for them.
"But General—"
"There's no room for negotiation," Solo interrupted. "These wheeled vehicles are the best choice for Jabim. You can't expect me to take AT-ATs wallowing through the mud, can you? Now, let's move on. We need at least three hundred BARK-type flying boats."
"That can be arranged. We have ample stock of BARK flying boats in inventory."
"Next, we need firepower support. What options do we have?"
"I believe that since the SPHA isn't suitable for you, the AV-7 Proton Cannon should meet your needs," Tamakas explained. "It's a four-legged walking chassis with a heavy projectile range of ten kilometers and a lethal radius of up to ten meters."
"Not bad. Do you have two dozen?"
"Only ten. Would you like all of them?"
"Yes, plus three times the standard ammunition allotment." Solo slapped the table. "And I need fixed firing positions that can be integrated into our defense system—lightweight and well-protected. Also, provide the equipment and materials for constructing ground bases and strongpoints."
"For fixed firing positions, I recommend the DF.9 Anti-Infantry Turret, which comes in three variants," Tamakas explained. "The T-1 Type is equipped with a medium laser cannon with a range of sixteen kilometers. The T-2 Type features twin rapid-fire blaster cannons with a range of six kilometers. The T-3 Type includes a missile launcher with a forty-round capacity. The first two require three crew members, while the T-3 needs four. All variants have a 180-degree field of fire, decent armor, and deflector shields. The only drawback is their inability to engage airborne targets."
"Aerial attacks are our least concern," Solo replied. "What's the inventory count?"
The logistics officer buried his head in the reports. "One hundred twenty-two T-1 Type, two hundred T-2 Type, fifty T-3 Type, and one basic load of ammunition for each."
"Divert all of it. What about the base construction materials?"
"Our stores are currently very tight," Tamakas said, spreading his hands. The Duros officer beside him nodded in agreement. "We only have a few hundred tons of standard lumber, a small amount of equipment, reactors, and prefabricated building components."
"Damn, that's terrible," Solo said, frowning. "At least we brought some out from Donovia earlier, so we can at least establish a minimal defensive line. Colonel, ammunition, vehicle fuel, spare parts, and food—we'll need massive resupply of all of that, right?"
"Of course, Commander," Tamakas sighed. "Still triple rations?"
"Better make it five times the normal amount," Solo said, ignoring his complaint.
He knew that during the Battle of Jabim, there would be no additional supplies. They'd have to rely entirely on themselves.
The logistics coordination meeting lasted a full hour and a half. Exhausted, Solo first gave a series of instructions to the local logistics personnel before heading to the Dawn Blossom, which was parked at Landing Pad Three.
Landing Pad Three was massive, easily large enough to accommodate two dozen Hailfire-class cruisers.
At that moment, the two ships under Solo's command had completed unloading. One headed for the repair dock, while the Beacon slowly ascended into orbit.
The Dingyuan was still unloading, its massive self-propelled artillery slowly rolling down the landing ramps on both sides of the ship.
In one corner of the landing pad, surplus equipment formed a makeshift warehouse, dwarfing the busy human figures moving among the colossal war machines.
Solo boarded the Dawn Blossom, where two clone trooper sentinels silently saluted him.
He probed the Force, locating Ahsoka in the officers' lounge at the bow of the ship.
Pushing open the door, he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, her head resting on her knees, her expression dejected.
He sat down beside her. "Ahsoka, want to talk?"
"Master," the Togruta girl said, her eyes filled with confusion. "Why do you think the Council was wrong to send us to Jabim? You never hesitated when we were chasing the Sith, but this time—"
Bingo!
Solo's heart stirred.
He could sense Ahsoka's inner conflict. On one hand, she firmly believed that the Council—comprised of masters like Yoda, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon—was always right. On the other, she respected Solo and understood that her Master wouldn't oppose the Council's decision without good reason.
Ahsoka was beginning to think independently, which was the best news in recent days.
"Let me start from the beginning," Solo said slowly. "Jabim has been part of the Republic for over five thousand years. Its residents obey the laws and pay their taxes on time—"
"Why, then, did they join the Separatists?" Ahsoka interrupted.
"It's complicated," Solo said, leaning back against the sofa cushions, his hands behind his head. "Things went smoothly at first, but in recent decades, the Republic has been unable to attend to Jabim—"
"Not just Jabim," he added. "All these insignificant Outer Rim planets have been forgotten by the Senate."
"Why?"
"Because they offer the Republic so little in return," Solo explained. "Their tax revenues are negligible, and the laws can be twisted however the Republic pleases. As a result, Jabim's troubles became their own problems. First, a plague claimed hundreds of thousands of lives, then came famine, and finally, Trandoshan slave traders invaded."
"Why didn't anyone help? The Republic did nothing, and the Jedi Order didn't intervene either?"
"The Jedi aren't omnipotent," Solo said. "Their options are limited. And the heart of the Republic is the Senate, which deemed aiding Jabim too costly. You've seen how much influence the Senate now wields over the Warrior Order."
"That's not right!"
Ahsoka's expression was intense and serious.
"Yes," Solo agreed. "It's definitely not right."
"What should we do?"
"This is a difficult problem, and you might not be able to fully understand it yet," Solo said, looking at her. "You're just an Apprentice, only thirteen years old. You shouldn't have to worry about these things."
"But—"
"Go back to Jabim," Solo continued. "A few years ago, a man named Alto Stratus emerged. Born on Jabim, he felt a deep attachment to his home planet.
After his family died from illness, he dedicated himself to changing the planet's status quo. He gave speeches in the Jabim Congress, advocating for improved living conditions for the people, but his efforts fell on deaf ears.
So, he launched a rebellion, nearly killing all the Congress members and becoming the planet's dictator. He then aligned himself with the Separatists, who supplied him with provisions, medicine, battle droids, and weapons.
However, not everyone supported him. Some surviving Congress members formed a resistance, leading to a civil war."
"Master, then... why are you unwilling to intervene?"
"Ahsoka, war and civil war are different," Solo said, spreading his hands. "In ordinary wars, there's a clear distinction between friend and foe, fought over territory, resources, or power.
But civil war is terrifying. It splits a nation, a city, a street, even a family—brothers turning against each other, sons killing their fathers.
People slaughter each other over illusory ideals, and in the end, no matter which side wins, it's a loss for the entire planet's people."
"Can't we negotiate with Stratus?"
"The time for negotiation has long passed," Solo shook his head. "In Stratus's eyes, both the Jedi Order and the Republic are enemies. We're left with only one path: combat."
"This isn't fair!" Ahsoka finally found the right word to express her feelings.
"Life isn't fair, Ahsoka," Solo replied calmly. "Not everything goes as we wish. Often, what we desire most is precisely what we cannot achieve."
"What should we do? What should I do?"
"Perform your duty and accept the inevitable outcome. It's an ancient saying." Solo looked at her. "We'll do our best to carry out our orders, to be able to face ourselves with integrity. Will you help me?"
"Yes, Master." Ahsoka nodded firmly.
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